


Reconnecting With The Past

by DoubleYouTeeEff



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet Old Dads, Light Bondage, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Post-Fall of Overwatch, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 15:05:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9662720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleYouTeeEff/pseuds/DoubleYouTeeEff
Summary: Years after the fall of Overwatch, Reaper and Soldier 76 cross paths.





	

Gabriel Reyes, now going by the handle Reaper, stood arms folded in a dark chamber, impatiently waiting for shadowy organization known as Talon to check in. He never met his masters face to face, they preferred to communicate through video or audio. It was a smart move on their part, as Reyes wasn’t sure he could restrain himself if he were in the same room as one of them. They were, after all, ultimately responsible for turning him into a monster.

Reyes huffed and shifted on his feet, a single clawed finger tapping against his bicep. The waiting felt like a reminder of who held the end of his leash. He was sure it was intentional. He was considering the repercussions of leaving when the monitor in front of him came to life. The silhouette of a man sitting at a desk appeared on screen. This was one of the handful of people pulling the strings at Talon.

“Reaper. After much consideration, we have decided that the individual known as Soldier 76 is to join our ranks. His numerous infiltrations of Overwatch among other organizations have convinced us that he will make a valuable asset. Any intel that he brings to the table is a bonus. You are to capture him alive and reasonably unharmed. Take this data key, it contains all the information we have gathered on your target.”

Reyes grunted as the screen switched off and a small port next to the monitor ejected a data stick. He took it and retreated from the room to return to his own quarters. He was currently stationed at one of the remote compounds that boasted over fifty men. This was large by Talon standards, as they preferred to operate in smaller cells.

Once he was in private, Reyes uploaded the data to his personal computer station. He quickly scanned through the files as they came up on screen. Soldier 76 was actually the presumed late Jack Morrison, commander of Overwatch, yadda yadda. No new information. Reyes had suspected the mysterious vigilante was Morrison the moment he learned of the masked man’s existence. Tracking the vigilante’s whereabouts and doings had become something of an obsession for Reyes. 

Old feelings of rage, betrayal, and desire pooled in Reyes’ gut. It’d been over five years since the two of them had seen one another. He had tried to kill the man in a fit of jealous anger, but had ended up as some kind of genetic horror. Morrison had stolen his recognition, his glory of Overwatch command, and it had hurt all the worse since he’d opened himself up to the other man before the knife slid in. Now he was going to ground Morrison into the dirt and drag him back to Talon. The organization would most likely scramble his brains until there was nothing left of the old Morrison. That was their way of insuring loyalty of their high profile members. Reyes was still himself because his masters had an easier way of controlling him: his life was in their hands. But that didn’t matter right now, as Talon was giving him all the chance he needed to get even. 

Reyes powered down his computer and walked out of his quarters. He had a strong inkling as to where Soldier 76 was going to strike next, and he knew exactly how he was going to take the man down. 

~

Jack Morrison had been scouting the abandoned Overwatch outpost for over a week. It was a collection of buildings scattered haphazardly within a ring of a defense wall in the middle of a desert. All the security devices had long been powered down or disabled, and the front gate had been left open almost carelessly. As of this afternoon, no one had been to the outpost in years.

It was time to make his move. The sun had just set as he approached his destination. Morrison passed through the gate and made a beeline for the center structure. Using decryption tech he’d acquired from a previous raid, the vigilante attached a device to the locking mechanism attached to a side entrance of the building. It beeped and hummed quietly as it worked its way into the old security system. And that’s when a voice sounded.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here.”

Morrison whirled and unslung his pulse rifle, looking for the speaker. He found the other man a ways off, standing clear as the night sky overhead. In the fast fading light, he quickly recognized the mercenary Reaper.

“I was wondering if we were ever going to bump into each other,” Morrison called back, no sign of fear in his voice. The rumors about the mercenary were just nonsense born out of fear and a ridiculous getup. And he had been half-expecting this confrontation for some time. They had both shown interest in old Overwatch stomping grounds after all.

“Were you hoping for an autograph?”

“Nah, I find your work to be a bit cliché.”

Reaper huffed at the barb, and then nodded towards the side of the building. Fifteen armed men stepped out from the shadows, surrounding Soldier’s position. They must have infiltrated the place sometime after his last scouting. He was getting sloppy.

“You should feel flattered. My employers are eager to meet you in person. I can’t see what all the fuss is about, but I’m not going to be the one to disappoint them.” 

Morrison eyed the men, tactical visor locking onto each target in his field of view. He could get out of this, with some luck. He jumped behind a nearby stack of crates, firing off a helix rocket towards the perimeter closest to him. Three men were taken down in the blast, and Morrison rolled forward then sprang up onto his feet and dashed through the opening. A spray of bullets chased him as he ducked around a corner. The collection of buildings within the outpost made for a lot of nooks and crannies, and he knew the place like the back of his hand. Talon’s lackeys would stand no chance against him here.

The vigilante waited as he heard the men fan out, trying to root out their target. After a moment, Morrison rolled around the corner and brought two more men down in quick, precise shots. The mercenaries turned towards the gunfire, but he was already running away in the other direction. Morrison heard the crunch of boots on gravel ahead of him, letting him line up his next shot before the enemy came into view. Another quick burst to the head, and they were down to nine not including Reaper. 

Morrison bounded up a set of metal stairs of a watchtower, the clang ringing out for all to hear. Two Talon agents were on his tail, and two more were ascending another watchtower. The others were spreading out behind railings of balconies and walkways along the second stories. He sent another helix rocket to take out the top of the stairs he just climbed, catching one man dead on and sending the other plummeting to the ground. Morrison’s visor confirmed them dead before he dodged the next hail of bullets. The watchtowers were connected by a rampart and he could see the men trying to flank his position. He moved to reach a more defensive spot along the wall, when he saw a wisp of moment out of the corner of his eye.

Reaper’s shotgun went off and Morrison’s upper thigh was ablaze in pain. He stumbled and rounded the corner, cursing at the injury. He needed to take care of the rest of the mercenaries if he were to have any chance against Reaper. Where had he come from anyways? The stairs behind him were a ruin. Morrison didn’t have time to think about it, so he focused on bringing down the other thugs who were advancing on his position. Using the corner as cover, he took the other men down in a few quick rounds, one of their shots finding his shoulder in the process. This was no good. If Reaper’s plan was to whittle him down, it was working. And yet the black Talon agent was nowhere to be seen. ‘He’ll wait until I’m vulnerable,’ He thought. It was the tactically sound strategy. 

Morrison started to run along the top of the wall, keeping himself low enough to avoid fire from the men below. He reached the next watchtower and activated his tactical visor. The remaining gunmen were outlined, allowing Morrison to pick them off with ease as he shifted onto the stair bannister and slid towards the ground level. The bodies slumped over, one man tumbling over a railing to land with a dull thud on the floor, as Morrison came to the end of the bannister. He made to land on his feet, but his leg buckled under him from the pain and he crashed onto his side instead. With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He sensed that Reaper was near. This was the man’s moment to strike. Propping himself up against a wall, Morrison turned to face the remaining mercenary. Reaper stood there, slowly clapping. 

“I’m surprised you lasted this long, old man,” Reaper said as he began to close the gap between them.

“I’m insulted that Talon underestimated me so badly.” Morrison took a deep breath to steady himself. He wasn’t beaten yet. 

“Oh? It looks like we brought just the right amount of force to bring you in. You’re in shit shape and I’m untouched.” Reaper would be on him in a few moments now. The pain in his leg and shoulder flared as he tensed in preparation.

“You won’t take me that easily.” And with that, Morrison fired his last helix rocket directly into Reaper’s chest. He watched the explosion engulf the hooded man in flames, dark tendrils snaking out in all directions. The vigilante sighed and began to relax against the wall when he saw something that made him freeze.

The tendrils that had spread out from Reaper’s body were now pulling back to the spot they originated. Morrison watched with disbelief as he saw what should have been a dead man rematerialize out of smoke. He heard a gravelly chuckle as the mercenary resumed his advance. 

“Sometimes the rumors are true,” Reaper’s smug tone dripping off every word. Now they both knew Soldier 76 wouldn’t be able to win this fight. 

Morrison grit his teeth. He refused to become another pawn for Talon, like Amelie. Without a word, he quickly grabbed the pistol in his side holster and brought the gun up to his temple. But even as he moved to pull the trigger, he saw Reaper dematerialize into red smoke only to reappear directly in front of him. A sharp pain in his wrist and the pistol shot wild, missing him completely. Reaper had twisted his arm back in a vice-like grip, forcing Morrison to drop the gun. Reaper’s other hand closed around the man’s throat, choking the breath out of him. Morrison’s free hand shot up to grab at the black clad arm, but he didn’t have the strength to move him.

“You can’t escape me that easily,” Reaper rumbled as Morrison slipped out of consciousness.

~

Reyes released his grip on Morrison as he felt the man’s pulse slow. He wasn’t looking to kill the man. He squatted down to get a better look at his prey. The shot to Morrison’s shoulder had been clean through. His own shotgun blast to the man’s thigh was a different matter. Reyes held a hand up to the wound and concentrated. Dark wisps uncurled from his palm and caressed the other man’s leg. Slowly, the metal embedded in Morrison’s leg was pulled out and fell to the ground. The tendrils dissipated and Reyes used his clawed hand to rip open the clothing to get better access to the leg and shoulder. He grabbed a roll of gauze from Morrison’s med kit that he knew would be in his side pouch and bound the man’s wounds. 

Satisfied that the man wouldn’t bleed out, Reyes hefted Morrison over his shoulder and carried him over to the center building. The device that Morrison had activated was chiming the completion of its task. He grinned behind his mask. This would be a convenient location. He retrieved the piece of tech and slipped it inside a pocket before opening the door and entering. 

~

Morrison awoke with a groan of pain. His shoulder and leg where he’d been shot ached, and the muscles in his arms were straining. He lifted his head and took stock of his situation. His hands were bound together above his head, looped around a hook dangling from a chain attached to the ceiling. His legs were free, but he was just barely touching the ground with his feet. Most of his weight was being supported by his arms. He tested the rope bindings and tried rolling his shoulders to alleviate some of the pain, both to no avail. Morrsion’s sidearm, holster, and shoulder packs, and arm strap had been removed. His jacket and the rest of his clothes remained.

Overhead were a string of battery powered lights that Overwatch had saved for emergencies. This seemed like an emergency of sorts, so it was fitting. He appeared to be in storehouse, but it was hard to tell as the room was bare. The exposed pipes and transport railings along the ceiling were his only clue. He figured they were in the lower levels as there were no windows in the room. In front of Morrison, a dark shape disentangled itself from the shadows and stepped out under the light. 

“Took you long enough to wake up.”

“I thought you were taking me to Talon for reprogramming. So what am I doing here?” Morrison wasn’t looking forward to having his mind turned inside out, but that didn’t mean he was in a better situation at present. 

“I’ll deliver you when I’m good and ready. I’m going to collect my due, first.”

“Due? Do you get off on besting old men? Feel like a real winner getting the upper hand on a guy who’s tied up?” As a younger man, he might have quietly endured whatever was awaiting him. But Morrison had grown tired of putting up with shit and saw no reason not to voice his concerns.

Reaper ignored the taunt and surged forward. Clawed hands gripped Morrison’s head like a vice as the mercenary’s thumbs unhooked his mask. The tactical visor and face guard were lifted away and Morrison had to blink to adjust to natural light. He turned to glare at Reaper. What was his angle?

“Huh, you’re more intact under this thing than I was expecting. You even have both your eyes still.” Reaper was gripping him by the jaw, turning his head this way and that to inspect Morrison’s face. He yanked himself free of the hand.

“You act as if you know me.”

“Oh, but I do know you. You’re the great hero of Overwatch. A man who should be dead. You never did know when to quit. But it’s just as well. There’s a fate worse than death in store for you. And I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer.”

There was more than just nastiness to his words. There was deep and personal hatred in this Reaper. 

“Should I know who you are?” Morrison didn’t want to play any games.

Reaper gave him a lazy backhand, snapping his head to the side.

“Yeah you should. But your head’s so far up your ass that you never could pay attention to anything other than your own self-righteousness. You able to figure it out yet or do I have to spell it out for you?”

Morrison’s eyes widened in shock as realization hit him like a brick. He stared for a moment before quickly recovering into a glare. He knew who he was dealing with now. He should have pieced it together, but Reyes was supposed to be dead from that fateful explosion so long ago. Then again, so was he. 

A churn of emotions was running through him now. Reyes had been his friend, lover, right hand man. He’d trusted the man with his life and had been betrayed. Their conflict had torn apart Overwatch itself. Morrison hated him for that. But a stronger part of him yearned for reconciliation. There had been something more at work than just jealousy. Something else had orchestrated Overwatch’s downfall. Morrison needed to reach out to Reyes. He’d seen the good in the other man once, knew it must still be there. He knew that if they two of them worked together, they’d be unstoppable.

Morrison cursed himself for his foolish hopes. He should know better than that now. But it was his capacity to hope that had landed him the position of commander in the first place. Reyes had more experience, but Morrison had been a better leader. He’d been an inspiration, and the UN had used him as a figurehead.

“Prick. Take off that mask and look me in the eyes.” Morrison wanted, no, needed to see that there was still some of the old Reyes left. His hope demanded it.

Reyes paused for a moment, then reached up and unhooked the skull visage. He dropped it with a metallic thunk. His skin was pale and gray, pulled gaunt over his features, and there was a reddish tinge to his brown eyes, but it was still the man Morrison knew. It was the man he’d fought the day their old selves died. Reyes brought his face in close to the other man’s.

“Look what you did to me. You drove me to this.” Morrison could smell gunpowder and familiar musk of the other man. But it was mixed with something new: ozone. Did that come from his new powers?

“You did that to yourself. You tried to kill us both just to get back at me for a decision I didn’t even make! I never chose to be commander!” Anger and hurt welled up in Morrison. His voice grew soft.

“Was it really so bad, Gabe? That you’d throw away everything we’d built together?”

Reyes whirled away in rage.

“Fuck you Jack! Don’t go pulling that shit on me. Acting like you’re ready to forgive me. I don’t want it.”

“I know someone else was behind the destruction of Overwatch. What do you think I’ve been doing these past years? We were manipulated.” ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Morrison wanted to say. But the words caught in his throat. 

Reyes rounded back on Morrison, grabbing the restrained man by the sides of his jacket and pulling him close.

“You mean I was manipulated! By Talon. And when Overwatch was in ruins, they decided they weren’t done with me. I wanted Overwatch for myself! Instead I helped destroy it, and got a noose around my neck in the process.”

“What did they do to you?”

“After Angela recovered my corpse, you mean. She brought me back from the explosion. Just barely, didn’t even realize whatever she did worked. Talon tricked her, had her pronounce me dead then kidnapped my forgotten body. They altered whatever it was that was keeping me alive, accelerated my metabolism beyond anything natural. Now I need to check in every few months or I’ll fall apart. They’ve got some kind of stabilizing chemical that stops my body from becoming a collection of cancer.” 

“Let me help. We can do it if we work together.” Morrison hated how stupid he sounded to his own ears, but he meant what he said. 

“Fuck you Jack,” Reyes said without any venom in his voice. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Morrison’s and found no resistance. He’d never been good at expressing his emotions through words. He was still hurt, still angry about what had happened. He’d given everything in the Omnic war only to be passed up for someone who was more poster boy material. But it was only now that he realized how much he regret letting it come between them. They’d been friends during their training days. Had become lovers during the war. But jealousy had gotten the better of him, and with a little help from Talon, had nearly destroyed them both.

And despite everything that had happened, Morrison wanted to help him. A part of Reyes recognized that this is what made Morrison the better man. He deepened the kiss, pressing forward with desperation to reclaim what had been lost. Morrison responded eagerly, and that was all the encouragement he needed.

Reyes released his grip on the other man’s jacket and pulled back, letting his hands drift down. He tugged on the black shirt, hooking his fingers under the hem of the fabric. Claws sliced upward, tearing open the remains of Morrison’s top. A lean muscled torso was exposed, tan skin marred by scars earned over the years. Reyes placed both hands on that skin, sliding upward to appreciate the body before him. One of his thumb pads circled around a pink nipple until it hardened under is touch. Morrison started to pant quietly, pupils blown wide with a familiar look of desire and want.

“Let me down. I want to touch you.”

“No, I prefer you like this. All tied up and nowhere to go.”

“Gabe, my shoulders are killing me.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”

It was comforting to the both of them how quickly they had slipped back into old banter. It felt right. Reyes disentangled himself and walked over to a nearby control panel on the wall. He pressed a button and the hook Morrison was attached to jerked then began to lower. Morrison’s boots made full contact with the floor, letting him support his weight on his own two feet again. Reyes let down a few more inches before releasing the control and sauntering back.

Morrison was unable to free his hands, there was a latch securing the hook closed, but the strain on his shoulders was relieved. He licked his lips as Reyes sunk to his knees before him. Clawed hands carefully undid the buckle on his belt then pulled his trousers down. Morrison tensed though when those hands came back up to remove his underwear. He cursed as Reyes looked up with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare!”

Reyes snickered, but made to comply. He undid the clasps on the gauntlets before pulling his hands free.

“Happy?”

“It’s a start.”

Hands returned to Morrison’s hips and his briefs were pulled down without fuss. His cock was already hard, and the cool air on his sensitive skin made him shiver. Reyes bent down and kissed at the head, then slowly ran his tongue around the tip. Morrison moaned above him and tried to push himself forward. Reyes made a tsking sound then planted a hand firmly on either hipbone to hold the man steady. He then wrapped his lips around Morrison’s shaft, bobbing his head up and down. The soft gasps and whines of pleasure above him urged him on.

Reyes could tell Morrison was getting close by the tremors running through the man’s thighs. Not wanting things to end just yet, he stood up and fished a few things from a side pocket within his coat. One was a short utility knife which he used to slice apart Morrison’s pants and underwear. The other was a small bottle of gun oil.

Morrison was vaguely annoyed as he realized what Reyes had done, hearing a rip in fabric then feeling a new range of mobility of his legs. But he’d complain about that later. He had more important things to focus on, like Reyes taking off his own pants. He was taking his sweet time, letting the knife clatter to the ground before making a show of undoing the belts and peeling the fabric down inch by inch. Morrison bit his lip to suppress a groan. Reyes uncapped the bottle of oil with this thumb and drizzled the clear liquid onto his dick, using one hand to slide up and down the length in lazy strokes. 

“Hurry up and fuck me already!”

Reyes chuckled as he pulled his hand away from himself and reached over to press a slicked finger into Morrison’s ass. The man shifted at the touch, spreading his legs a little further apart. Another finger worked its way in, stretching the ring of muscle. Reyes’ other hand hefted Morrison’s leg over his hip to give him a better angle to his hole. This forced the soldier to lean back and support some of his weight on his arms again. Satisfied that Morrison was as prepped as he was going to get, he withdrew his fingers. A moment later, the head of his cock was slowly pushing in. Reyes paused for a moment once he was completely in, letting the both of them catch their breath. It had been a long time since he had been intimate with anyone, and judging by the wince in Morrison’s face, he was not alone.

Reyes began to thrust not long after, driving into the other man. Pulling one leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around his hip, he had the right angle to plunge deep inside Morrison’s ass. The restrained vigilante was watching him, eyes glassy and lips parted with lust. Reyes leaned in to capture those lips in a kiss, wanting to claim every inch of his old lover. Then he was burying his face in the crook of Morrison’s neck, sucking and biting at the exposed flesh. 

Morrison was letting out a continuous stream of moans now. He hadn’t lay with anyone, trusted anyone, for years. And although Reyes was rusty, he still knew what his partner responded to. He ground his ass downwards, using his legs as leverage to generate more friction. Every other thrust was pressing into his prostate now and he only wanted more. He let out a keening noise as a hand wrapped itself around his weeping member. Reyes gave him a squeeze and began pumping his fist in rhythm with his hips. 

It was a sensory overload for the old soldier. A few more desperate thrusts and Morrison was crying out in orgasm, his body arching upward as everything exploded within him. Hot come splattered onto his chest and stomach. Reyes continued to fuck his partner through climax, grunting in pleasure at the increased tightness around his cock. Then he was coming too, burying himself as far as he could inside Morrison’s ass and stiffening as he ejaculated. They both stilled as the pleasure ebbed and they were left breathing heavily in each other’s embrace. 

Slowly, gently, Reyes let Morrison back down onto his own two feet. He reached up and undid the latch keeping the man’s arms up, holding him upright to prevent any falling. Morrison let himself be supported, too worn out to do much else. Reyes eased them onto the floor into sitting positions.

“What now?”

“I’m supposed to take you to Talon for reprogramming.”

“You won’t do that, Gabe.” Reyes grunted in agreement. He couldn’t turn on Morrison, not again.

“Come with me. We’ll find a way to fix you. Angela would know something.”

“What makes you think Angela would help me, assuming she even could?”

“Because I won’t give her a choice.”

“Heh, you’re cute when you’re trying to act tough.”

Morrison gave an almost shy smile. Like he couldn’t quite believe they were back on the same side. But he knew if they worked together, they could do the impossible. 

Reyes met Morrison’s eyes and could see the determination in them. Maybe there was still hope after all.


End file.
